Here Come The Storm
by WhiteStar the Undecided
Summary: Being a racecar was the last thing on her mind, but of course her money obsessed father forces her into it. How's a 17 year old supposed to deal with this kind of thing? A lover of books and riddles, not winning and speed. Really crappy summery, sorry


_Though of great age,  
I'm kept in a cage,  
Having a long tail and one ear,  
My mouth it is round,  
And when joys do abound,  
O, then I sing wonderful clear._

'_Hmm…this ones a toughie…leaf'_

'_No…mouse? Oh no way that's it!'_

'_WHAT IS IT?!'_

"STORM! WHERE ARE YA YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE PEST?! YOU AINT'T READIN' AGAIN ARE YA?!"

Quickly shoving the book that was currently in tire under the floorboards, the figure darted outside and up to an even larger shape. Taking a deep breath the sleek form gently tapped the larger's side, "Yes Sir?"

Before any could blink the smaller figure had been pressed against the wall of a building and a knife was at their throat. Their eyes darted to the knife then back but they did nothing; no increased breathing, no panicking, just silence. After a moment or two they were let down and the blade was put away.

"What have I told you about sneaking up on me?"

"I'm sorry Sir, I didn't mean too."

A glare answered her before a large bucket full of soup and water was thrust in their face. "Get to work. The less you work the more money I'm losing on feeding you. Now get to it."

"Of course Sir."

The smaller figure turned away and headed off, mumbling under their breath. Varied words escaped their lips but most were curses and half meant threats while the rest were simply words of boredom.

"I swear I have the most selfish Father on the face of the Earth. It's all about the money to him, never me. Jerk…oh well. At least he remembers my name…most of the time…"

The figure was a young 2009 ZO6 Corvette, around the age of 17. Unlike other Corvettes, this one was nowhere even close to being fancy. Her paint was a dull murky gray, looking a lot like storm clouds just before a hurricane. Which was fitting, for the girl's name was Storm. Atop her hood was a set of glasses like looked more like an old lady's then a teenagers. They looked like half moons and sat very close to her eyes, very much like Dumbledore's from Harry Potter.

And just like a storm, Storm herself was usually very tranquil. A peaceful person to her family, but to strangers she was a whole different spectacle. As where many Corvettes are known to love speed and looking as perfect as can be, Storm ever cared whither or not she had dirt in her rims or if her entire body was soaked in mud. It was all the same to her.

The teenage Corvette adored books and reading, puzzles, and pretty much everything else that made a normal kids brain hurt. Storm loved riddles most of all, any kind of riddle you give her there was no doubt she could answer it. Just give her a day or two if it's a real tough one.

Storm's father was a large Hummer named Kron, a very strong man indeed. He was extremely obsessed with money and willing to do anything to get it. Kron worked Storm half to death everyday of her life but she never complained.

They lived in a good sized home just outside of Charlotte, North Carolina a few miles from the famous Lowes Motor Speedway. That's where Kron made most of his money, betting on who was going to win the races. His latest big score had one him nearly 500 grand and he couldn't be happier about it.

When Storm was a young car, her father would sometimes take her to races as well but she usually just stayed behind and read the whole time he was away. As she headed towards the front of the house to start cleaning the windows of the house, Storm was hit in the side by a piece of paper.

"What in the world? Jeez, people just can't pick up after themselves anymore."

Just as she was about to ball up the paper and throw it into the garbage, Storm noticed that it wasn't trash but a flyer. A racing flyer. Although not a fan of racing she put her bucket down and started to read it anyway.

"Attention race fans. Have you ever dreamed of becoming a famous racecar? Trading paint with the fastest and the best? Well now is your chance. Be at the Lowes Motor Speedway on Saturday from noon to 9 and you too can become one of the greatest."

Silence hung in the air before it was filled with laughing; Storm couldn't believe what she had just read. It had to be some kind of joke, but…the idea was tempting. After a moment of thought Storm had made up her mind.

"That settles it, I'll go. But just for a laugh. There is no way this is real."

With a shake of her hood, Storm got back to work going faster then usual. If she wanted to give it a shot she'd have to get all her chores done before she could go anywhere. Her father gave her some freedom, but not much.

Several hours passed before the house was finally spot free; it was so late that the sun had already set but there was just enough time to get to the track before the contest was over. After a few minutes hesitation Storm went up to her father who was busy counting his money.

"Sir? All my chores are done and I was hoping I could go out for a little bit."

A grunt answered her as smoke was blown into her eyes. Kron paused in his money counting and looked to Storm; he watched her for a moment before waving his tire dismissively, "Fine fine, just get out of here. You almost made me lose count."

Storm was quick to get out of the room and the house, sighing in relief. With a smile she revved her engine and shot off down the road, praying she wasn't going to be too late to try out the track.

Miles away sitting high in the stands of Lowes Motor Speedway a pair of cars were arguing to each other. One was a rather chubby powder blue Prius with dark green eyes and the other was a large 2005 TrailBlazer.

"I don't know how many cars we've seen but none are anywhere near good enough for the big time. And they all could be mini versions of Chick Hicks."

The TrailBlazer sighed as he rifled through several profiles, each of them worse then the last. He closed the file and looked back to his companion, "We'll give it one more try then we'll move on to the next town. How's that sound Mark?"

The Prius nodded and waved to the security guards to let the next car in. Mark had given up hope several hours before and was positive that he and his companion, Tom, would not find any suitable car to add to their team. Well, actually it was Tom's team since he was the one who owned the company but Tom considered Mark a partner.

Tom shook his hood and was about to say something when his gaze was stolen by the car that had just arrived on the track. It was a sleek Corvette, a car Tom hadn't seen since they left LA. He merely shrugged of her dull paint job and her glasses and quickly nudged his partner.

"Hey Mark, check this out. It's a Corvette, maybe our luck is turning."

Mark turned his attention from his papers to look down at the track. He raised an eye ridge before saying, "She looks so dull, I doubt she'll be able to do anything. But go ahead and let her try, we have nothing else better to do."

Down on the track Storm waited for the signal she could go ahead and start her trial. Originally she hadn't been nervous about just giving it a try but at the sight of the two racecar hunters Storm felt her heart begin to race. She barely heard the gunshot signaling her start but she instinctively shot off down the track in a blink of an eye.

Mark and Tom's eyes nearly shot out of their cabs as they watched the gray blur shoot down the track and around the curves. She was rough on the turns but otherwise the best candidate they had seen so far and gave them hope.

Once her 5 laps were over Storm left the stadium and started to head home, feeling rather proud of herself. Why she wasn't sure, but she ignored the clueless feeling. What she didn't know was that she was being followed by a desperate pair or cars who had a proposition for her.

Storm continued on her way, revving her engine occasionally, humming to herself. At the sight of her house the Corvette couldn't help but smile. Storm knew she needed to get supper on or her father would be furious so she sped up and headed through the house into the kitchen.

Upstairs Kron tapped the floor impatiently; Storm was supposed to have his supper ready half an hour ago. Kron growled as he slammed his safe shut and headed downstairs, "STORM!! WHERE'S MY-" Kron's anger filled yell was drowned out by the doorbell ringing.

Another growl escaped him, but it was quickly turning into a snarl as he yanked the door open. When he saw Mark and Tom he instantly recognized them and calmed immediately and put on a sickly sweet smile.

"Mark Taylor and Tom Boldar! What an honor it is to meet you in person! How can I help you? Please, come in come in!"

The pair headed inside the house as Kron ushered them to the family room. He showed them to some seats and offered to get them something to drink.

"STORM! Get out here!"

With a shake of his hood Tom stated their business, "Actually we're here looking for someone. As you probably already know, Mark and I are very busy searching for a new racer to represent our company, Boldar Polish. Our last racer went into retirement and we've had terrible luck at finding a replacement, until today!"

"Well I'm sorry you've had so much trouble, but what can I help you with? I don't know of anyone in this town would be a good racer."

Anymore of what Kron was about to say was cut off when the growling engine of his daughter entered the room. Storm had been ready to offer drinks to her father and his quests when Mark shouted out, "YOU!"

With a jump and a panicked expression Storm tried to calm herself from the startling scream. She glanced behind her then back at them and pointed to herself, "Me?" Kron looked between them all franticly, "Her?"

"Yes her! She's the one! What's your name sweetheart?"

Storm blinked and wasn't sure what to say or do, but the glare from her father got her to talk. She gulped before stating, "Rivera, Storm Leann Rivera."

Tom went up to her and shook her tire with a smile, "Congratulations Storm, we've chosen you to be the new racer for Boldar Polish."

Several jaws dropped while Tom and Mark received wide-eyed stares. After a moment Kron shook his hood and asked quickly, "Her? You want her?! But she's nothing! No where near good enough to be a racer."

Chuckles answered him as Mark started pulling out several papers from his briefcase. Tom smiled good-naturedly and told him, "Your daughter may not look like much but she has good potential. She's the fastest car we've seen today. And when we're done with her she'll be perfect racing material. All we gotta do is get her a good repaint and get rid of those glasses. And of course as her father, you'll receive 40% of her winnings, merchandising, and ancillary rights in perpetuity."

Storm swore that if they had been in a cartoon that her father's eyes would have become huge dollar signs. She was very tempted to hand Kron a napkin because she was sure he was drooling and maybe even about to faint.

With a shake of his hood to clear his thoughts, Kron nodded eagerly, pictures of huge heaps of cash filling his mind. Tom and his partner smiled widely and handed the contracts to him.

The whole time this was going on, Storm was watching in amazement. As her father was about to sign the first contract she snapped out of her trance, "HEY! Don't I get a say in this?! I don't want to be a racer!"

Tom and Mark looked to each other then from Storm to Kron. The Hummer gulped then smiled, "Excuse us for a moment." He grabbed his daughter and dragged her to the other room before snapping at her, "What do you think your doing?! This could make me rich!"

"I don't want to be a racer! I hate racing, you know that!"

"Well you're going to anyway! I'm your father and I say you're going to be a racecar!"

Even though she wanted to protest, Storm knew he was right. She was only 17 and she knew that she had no choice. With a sigh she nodded and followed him back into the family room. Storm only paused once more before she signed her name away on the dotted line.

"Wonderful! It's settled. Welcome to the Boldar Polish racing team Storm Rivera. You'll be a racing legend in no time."

A sigh was all that answered the enthusiastic Prius, for Storm simply turned and headed back to her room. Mark and Kron had already begun a deep conversation about the amount of money Storm would be making, but Tom had noticed the Corvette's strange behavior. Most cars would give a fortune to be a racecar, but it seemed that was anything but what Storm wanted. He hoped she would warm up to them soon or it would be a long, long racing season.


End file.
